Fairy Bells in Spring

I celebrated ice-out on the lake a little too early last week -- it was simply visiting someone else's neighborhood for a little while. When the breeze shifted the ice moved back in and I was glad for it. It meant I hadn't missed the sweet gift I wait for each spring.

At this time of year the ice dances around the lake at the whim of the wind and I enjoy watching the waltz of nature. One moment the waves are free and, not fifteen minutes later, huge pans of gray ice pass by at a pretty fair clip, until our end of the lake is clogged again. Then the wind shifts again and it all reverses itself.

It does an amazing amount of damage because of the sheer weight behind it. However, it also possesses delicate beauty.

The ice offers a gift to anyone willing to brave the cold breezes. If you stood beside me on the shoreline you'd notice that the surface itself is no longer solid. Instead, it appears to be made of millions of shards of crystals. It's these crystals that the wind piles up on the shore, forming white walls that sparkle in the sun.

But even more incredible is the exquisite sound of fairy bells.

The first time I heard those delicate bells was about ten years ago, sitting by Lake Buckhorn on a beautiful spring day. Every year since then I've listened for them as the ice breaks up into crystals and the wind moves them against each other. Sometimes I've missed out but not this year.

I stood there this morning and thanked God for the tinkling melody of ordinary ice.